Stout Romesco Dip (10 minutes, so good)

This was been a woodwork year. One of those years when people from my distant past, from a time when I was a person who doesn’t exist anymore, come out of the woodwork to jump back into my life. They feel equal parts foreign and comfortable, like a warm bath in the middle of the day.

My favorite side effect of the woodwork people is that I get to tell the stories my everyday friends are sick of, and I get to feel impressive. I get to tell the story of when I almost died in Morocco, and the time I was asked to do porn. And if you and I meet, and you get me drunk enough, I’ll tell all the stories of my life running around LA with rock stars that I won’t ever immortalize in digital print.

There is an element to recounting my weird past that I need right now, a reminder that when your life isn’t exactly what you want it to be, it might be what you need. It’s a reminder that it’s an evolution, a journey, and the rocks in the road have been fewer than the oases. Sure, things are weird right now, but I’m not done. Not even close. Check back in another 10 years and I’ll have more weird stories for you.

At least that’s the goal. Who knows if I’ll have a bigger house, or a fancier car, but I can guarantee you that I won’t be boring. I’m just hanging my hat on that being the better end of the deal.